Falling For You
by LadyAshling
Summary: Kjirsten meets Farkas of the Companions and he rocks her world. Lemon & sexual situations, strong language scattered throughout. Rated M for Mature audiences only.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All characters (except for my Dragonborn) belong to Bethesda. Thanks for letting me play!**

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It seemed like an age had passed when she was just a normal Nord crossing the border back into her homeland after a few years away as a mercenary, when she'd been captured by the Empire and nearly beheaded because some stupid Jarl thought it would be a great idea to murder the High King and start a fucking civil war. After escaping she later discovered that she was Dragonborn and ended up traveling all over the country before killing Alduin in Sovngarde.

Kjirsten still woke up sometimes, stunned by how rapidly her life had turned around once her blood was revealed. Of course, there were days it didn't feel like a gift. She'd killed many people to get to where she was now – some of them heartily deserved it, but most of them were just caught in the crossfire of a bloody civil war. Men did things they regretted when times became desperate; unfortunately, many of those desperate people she met didn't live long enough to think on them.

Huffing grumpily, she rolled out of bed, breathing deeply the smell of Lydia's cooking. Eschewing her usual armor the Nord rifled through her wardrobe and donned a pair of doeskin pants dyed butter yellow and a cotton shift with a light green jacket. Today she planned to sit in Jarl Balgruuf's court as his Thane, instead of gallivanting around the country looking for trouble. Her nimble fingers combed through her long blonde hair and tidied her sleeping braid into a braided bun with the help of some hairpins she'd splurged on in the Capital.

"Horker stew before court! Nothing can get me down today," laughed the Dragonborn as her huscurl ladled a hefty portion into a bowl and passed it to her.

"Politics and an empty stomach never get along, my Thane." The women talked and broke their fast until the sun rose a little more in the sky. "It's nearly eight, my Thane. The Jarl's court will begin business soon."

Nodding in resignation, Kjirsten handed her bowl to Lydia and bid her good day as she exited the small house. Whiterun was such an open city, probably because the citizens trusted in the strength of the stonewalls that had never been breached. But Ulfric Stormcloak was sitting like a vulture in Windhelm waiting for Whiterun to lower its guard enough so he could claim to be the first in history to do just that.

The Dragonborn had to admit that she agreed with many of Ulfric's ideals, especially freeing Skyrim from the Thalmor, but Balgruuf understood that blindly throwing punches wasn't the way to get what you wanted. He hated the Thalmor as much as any of them, but the Empire wasn't responsible for every action of the Aldmeri Dominion. Just as the "enemy of my enemy is my friend" so too could it be the "friend of my friend is my enemy" and knowing when to sit still and when to strike were vitally important in such situations.

Her feet carried her by rote up the street and through the town center with unseeing eyes. So lost in thought was she that when she bumped into a wall of steel, she was startled and felt her body falling to the ground. Reaching out to catch herself her hand instead wrapped around a thick arm that had materialized around her waist and righted her.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't watching were I was going…" Kjirsten's voice broke as she looked up at the person she'd practically fallen over. He was a massive dark haired Nord, wearing the special wolf armor of the Circle Companions, and intense grey eyes that were boring holes into her. She'd never seen a man so large, not just in height, but breadth. Her face flamed as they silently regarded one another. _Sweet Mara, I'm in trouble._

His deep, but soft voice brought her out of her reverie. "Don't be sorry. I'm not." He smiled then, crinkling the tanned skin around his eyes, but still giving him a wolfish expression when his lips pulled apart. Holding out his hand to shake hers, Kjirsten felt the loss of heat on her waist and was even more mortified that she hadn't even noticed it there. "I'm Farkas, one of the Companions."

Attempting to recover her dignity she gave him a strong shake and inclined her head diplomatically. "I'm Kjirsten, Thane of Whiterun." She deliberately didn't mention she was Dragonborn – it always changed the way people treated her. Stepping back slightly for some much needed distance, she continued, "I'm sorry again for bumping into you, but you must excuse me, I'm late for court in Dragonsreach. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Farkas, perhaps we will see each other again."

As she fled as quickly as courtesy allowed up the stairs into the Wind District she didn't see the way that his gaze hungrily followed her or hear him whisper, "Oh, I'll make sure of it." Njada pushed off the post she'd been leaning on outside the general goods store with an aggravated sigh.

"Are you done perusing the city's 'merchandise' now so we can go finish this damn mission?" Farkas glanced at the angry way his fellow Companion flicked her shield for emphasis and smirked.

"Jealous?"

"Pffft! Hardly. I just want to get the job done and be back in Jorrvaskr by sundown tomorrow, that's all." He chuckled darkly as the warrior stomped down the road expecting him to follow her and not realizing that he could sense her conflicting emotions. Sparing one more glance up the hill he readjusted the weight of his greatsword and headed out of town for his mission.

Kjirsten had collected her composure by the time she reached the interior of the Jarl's palace. Giving her jacket a final tug to smooth any wrinkles she strode confidently into the main hall, bowing slightly to Jarl Balgruuf and nodding crisply to his steward, before taking the chair provided for her off to the side. She sat and listened as the Jarl heard pleas from his citizens for aid or prisoners for mercy – he granted both where he could. Then Proventus launched into an hour long explanation of the Hold's current finances, giving his advice and defending it against the protestations of Irileth. She was very grateful when Jarl Balgruuf abruptly ended their pissing contest and recessed court for lunch.

Once everyone was seated silence mercifully descended as they ate. Farengar, the court wizard, was sitting on her left hand side. Normally she didn't like the man, but after they completed their lunch he showed her a couple handy tricks to make soul gems last longer on her enchantments so they didn't deplete as quickly. "Thank you, Farengar." He simply nodded and went back to his research by way of dismissal.

Jarl Balgruuf met her outside Farengar's quarters. "Kjirsten, don't worry about court for the rest of the day. Proventus and Irileth are apparently only interested in arguing for their own sake, it seems." He rested a weary hand on her shoulder and gave her an awkward pat. "Thanks for coming though. I appreciate you taking your office seriously."

"My Jarl." She waited for him to walk away before taking her leave. The sun was blinding after being inside for hours, so she took a moment to adjust them and joke around with the guards outside.

"I used to be an adventurer like you, then I took an arrow to the knee."

Kjirsten laughed loudly. "Yes, Ronar. And how is that arrow treating you as she warms your bed every night?" The man smiled broadly.

"I'll never tell," he replied with a cheeky wink. She clapped him on the back.

"Smart man. It seems you will live to share another night with your charming wife. Tell Helga I said hello." Still chuckling lightly Kjirsten entered the temple for a blessing of Kynareth and some quiet meditation.

Court always wore her down simply because the song and dance of politics was exhausting. She admired those strong enough to rule and effectively see to the needs of an entire Hold. As Dragonborn, she was not destined for that path – her path was more strike first, ask questions later. She walked up to the shrine and left a small dragon's tongue flower to honor the Lady of the Storm Voice. The shrine lit up at the offering enveloping her in the sweet wind of Kynareth, the blessing filling her soul with warmth and lifting her heavy heart.

"My Lady, I do not feel that I am worthy of this gift, but everyday I am grateful for it. Grant me a favorable wind at my back as I move through the world and a strong voice against my enemies." The Dragonborn smiled softly at Danica Pure-Spring as she left the temple and headed home.

Lydia was out, thankfully, when she arrived at her house. She was so tired of posturing and she wasn't in the mood to be addressed as "Thane" at the moment. Taking a moment to enjoy the peace she ran upstairs and pulled out her favorite guilty pleasure from her chest, settling against the furs on her bed to read the second installment of "The Lusty Argonian Maid."

When the dark haired warrior returned to Breezehome it was to find her Thane snoring softly with a book half-covering her chiseled features. Lydia stifled a laugh when she caught sight of the title as she laid the book on the end table before removed the Dragonborn's boots and pulling one of the furs over her prone form. With another soft chuckle the huscurl blew out the candles and closed the bedroom door as she crossed into her own room for the night.

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**A/N: "Arrow to the knee" reference is based off the theory that some believe it is actually a euphemism for getting married. "Took an arrow to the knee" = got married, can't fight anymore. Of course, I don't buy it, but it was entertaining so I included it.**


	2. Chapter 2

Throwing her dented breastplate into a corner, Kjirsten swore loudly as she crossed the threshold of Breezehome. Lydia came running from the back storage room in alarm.

"Kjirsten? What happened?"

The blonde threw up her hands. "A giant, that's what happened! I was just minding my own damn business and was nowhere near his camp when he attacked me." She rubbed her ribs with a hiss. "I'd rather fight a dragon any day than one of those bastards," Kjirsten grumbled as she sank onto a chair.

Lydia picked up the armor and winced at the damage. It looked as though the stone club the giants favored hit slightly off-center, practically crumpling the steel armor like a vice around the Dragonborn. "My Thane, I don't think this can be repaired."

With a grunt the other woman replied, "I know. Looks like I'll finally have to cave and spend my money on that fancy armor you keep telling me to commission." Lydia hid her smirk. Kjirsten was a notoriously tight with her money, preferring to collect random pieces of armor and have it tailored to fit or sell it for more coin, rather than spending the hundreds it would cost for a full set. "But first, how about you bring Danica here? I didn't have enough health potions and my ribs really hurt."

Once the priest had sufficiently healed her deep bruises and advised her to take it easy for a few days, Kjirsten did just the opposite. She put on a simple cotton shift and leather pants to take the goods she'd found to the market to fund the armor she required. Belethor greeted her enthusiastically as she sold him some fine pieces from her pile. Then she went to visit Arcadia to stock up on health potions and sell the other potions she didn't need, as well as the alchemy ingredients she'd come across in her travels. Arcadia never asked where she got some of her more…unique items, but was always very appreciative which she proved by paying well.

The last stop in Kjirsten's shopping was actually at the blacksmith, but instead of going to Adrianne's shop she was heading to meet with Eorlund Grey-Mane and see how much a set of infamous Skyforge steel armor would cost her. Even though she lived in the city, she'd never gone into the famed mead hall, but she could hear the Companions training in the back and talking as she neared the building. Jorrvaskr – home to the heirs of Ysgramor. It was a title any man or woman would be proud to bear, but she always figured she had enough titles so she'd never asked to join and add another to her name.

Not wanting to disturb anyone, she skirted the back and made her way to the stairs that led to the Skyforge. He caught sight of her then in the corner of his eye and he whipped his head around fully to drink her in again. Tall, fair, muscular yet soft, watching her move so fluidly caused his mouth to dry slightly in desire.

Vilkas coughed beside him and Farkas met his brother's questioning gaze. His twin flicked his eyes to the woman and watched as she disappeared across the landing to speak to Eorlund before looking at his brother again. "That's her," Farkas said.

"I figured as much. Just watch yourself, brother, she's Dragonborn." Vilkas paid more attention to Vignar's tales of the day-to-day happenings in the Jarl's court than Farkas and he'd recognized the woman immediately even though he'd never met her. Not only had the old storyteller told him the woman was both a Thane and the Dragonborn, but he hadn't spared any details in describing her beauty.

Farkas looked Vilas defiantly. "I can handle myself. She's not the first woman I've been interested in Brother, but she is the first one I've felt like this over."

Vilkas lowered his voice so it didn't carry over the wind. "Exactly! She's powerful in her own right. Don't give her more power over you by giving her too much of you." He walked away to let his twin think about what he'd said.

Farkas ruminated slowly over his brother's words. His Companions were always teasing him about his lack of smarts and it's true that compared to his brother and more scholarly people, he didn't understand everything. But when it came to how he felt about Kjirsten that was something he did understand. Bumping into her had been an accident, but he'd wondered since that day if maybe it was a divine accident. When his hand touched her it lit a fire in his soul and birthed an instant connection between her and his wolf.

Squaring his shoulders he grabbed his blade and took the stairs to the forge two at a time. He reached the landing just as Kjirsten and Eorlund sealed their bartering for armor with a pleasant handshake. The smith caught sight of him and smiled, "Ah, Farkas. Finally ready to surrender your blade so I can hone it for you?"

Kjirsten flew around at his name, fluttering her hands anxiously, unable to meet his eye. Watching her fidget sent renewed heat surging through his body as he remembered the feel of her skin against his and the delicate touch she laid on his arm. He laughed easily and passed his sword to Eorlund. "Hello, Kjirsten," he said.

"Farkas," she replied breathlessly. "How have you been? No other women have run you down in the market since last week, I hope." Kjirsten smiled to hide her nervousness. She couldn't explain what it was about being around him that made her world tilt on its axis or why that lopsided feeling was so addictive.

"You are the only damsel in distress that I've rescued." Eorlund raised his eyebrows slightly at the large man's words, shooting a glance to the woman who was turning a delightful shade of pink at Farkas' teasing.

"I thought that Companions did that sort of thing on a regular basis?"

He gave a low laugh that sent shivers down her spine. "They do. I don't. They don't think I'm suited for those kind of jobs." Farkas shrugged indifferently.

Before she realized what she was doing, Kjirsten laid her calloused palm on his forearm, gazing at him earnestly with her ice-blue eyes. "I would have to disagree." Farkas swallowed thickly at her touch, desperately trying to rein in his inner beast as the heat from her hand seeped into him.

She watched his grey eyes darken and swirl dangerously with unspoken emotion. Part of her instinctually told her to run away, but another part of her was magnetized to the mountain of a man. There was a feral side to him and he oozed raw power barely contained, while wrapped up in a delicious package of Nord manhood.

Eorlund cleared his throat surprising them both and sending Kjirsten scuttling back a few spaces. Her face flamed and she flicked her eyes to both men in turn before fleeing down the stairs. Farkas watched her run through town, until she turned a corner in the market and was hidden from sight. "Well…I haven't seen that kind of attraction in a long time." Farkas harrumphed and found it hard to meet the old man's gaze. "You better buy an amulet, boy, and marry that one or you'll regret it," he said, only half teasing.

"I'm not the marryin' type."

The smith chuckled. "None of us Nord men are when we're young, but let me tell you something. That woman is special and she's interested in you. So interested a blind man could see it with the tension between you two. I'd say that's a damn good reason to marry her." Nodding to show that he heard, Farkas left Eorlund to his work. He needed to talk to Kodlak.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Lemon in this chapter. Don't read if you don't like smut.**

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It took him three days to work up the courage, but he was doing what Kodlak suggested. Currently, Farkas was standing on her front stoop, staring at the wooden door unsure how he should knock. Politely? Aggressively? Three times, once? He didn't know anything about courtin' a woman, especially not Kjirsten. He growled to himself – when did a werewolf need courage anyway? Gods, he was turning into a milk drinker!

Raising his hand he knocked firmly on the door. He ignored the snide, "finally" from Adrianne at her forge next door and waited impatiently for someone to answer. Once Vilkas told him who she was, which he should have known, he knew which house was hers. News had spread like wildfire when the Dragonborn purchased Breezehome and moved into town.

The door opened and he paused to see a dark-haired warrior. "Uhh, I'm here to see Kjirsten. Is she here?" Lydia frowned slightly and tilted her head up to get a better look at the big man demanding to see her Thane.

She crossed her arms. "Who's asking?"

Farkas ran a hand through his hair. "Farkas of the Companions." The woman's eyebrows arched practically into her hairline. He must be the reason Kjirsten dashed home, completely flustered the other day. Very few things could unsettle the Dragonborn, but a good-looking man could definitely do it.

Lydia relaxed, but maintained her frown. "I'm sorry, she's not here. She left for Riften on business the other night."

"Why would she go to that cesspool?" His words came out angry, but in reality he was concerned. The Rift was a dangerous part of Skyrim and Riften was full of thieves and corruption. What if something happened to her before he could talk to her? He tried to rationalize the situation to himself – she's Dragonborn, she traveled to Sovngarde and killed the World-Eater, but none of it assuaged the pang of fear in his gut.

The warrior opened her mouth to smartly tell the Companion off, but before she could say a word he turned and rushed out of the city gates. "Well, then, good luck to you Companion," she muttered as she closed the door.

Farkas dashed to the stables and threw his entire coin purse at the owner while simultaneously taking the reins of a nearby horse and clambering up. The owner just clicked his tongue disapprovingly as the Companion rode off. He rode hard and fast to Ivarstead where he was forced to make camp in the woods and give the poor horse a rest, but before the sun was up the next morning they were off again.

They stayed on the road and Farkas was constantly scouting the edges for signs of her or danger. When they reached Riften it was dark once more and he passed the exhausted animal to the stable master to tend to. One of the guards attempted to shake him down for coin, but one glare from Farkas and he was tripping over himself to unlock the gate. "Thanks," Farkas growled angrily as he passed.

Seeing the inn ahead he entered and asked the Argonian proprietors if they had seen Kjirsten. "Oh yeah, she was here earlier today, but she left to run an errand for the Jarl."

Farkas closed his eyes tightly and clenched his fists to maintain control. "You mean, she's out in the woods right now?" When he opened his eyes again with an angry snarl the Argonian stepped back in fear. He turned on his heel and stormed out, stomping across the wooden bridges, and back through the city gates. Rushing into the woods, Farkas got as far away from the city as he could before he allowed his wolf to take over.

His fear and anger had finally reached a boiling point. He'd barely been able to contain himself from shifting in town, but now he was free. Roaring his frustration in the night, he ran on his powerful back legs and used his sensitive nose to point him in the direction of Kjirsten.

At times her scent would come and go, which made it incredibly hard to track her down. Not to mention all the times he was sidetracked by spiders and his wolf's desire to '_hunt, hunt, kill, blood!'_ The human side of Farkas was only barely able to keep his bestial half on track. It did help that whenever his wolf caught a whiff of her delicious smell, it spurred him on just as much as the human half – maybe more.

This was the first time he'd indulged the beast and shifted since he'd met Kjirsten so it was the first time he was able to experience fully how his wolf responded to her. The overwhelming thought racing through his wolf's brain whenever he caught a trace of Kjirsten on the wind was '_mate.'_ Even his animal side wanted her – she called to both halves of him, which was something no other woman he'd ever taken to his bed had done.

"You're mine now!" An eerie voice called in the darkness followed by maniacal laughter and Kjirsten's cry of pain. Farkas growled when he smelled the sickly sweet scent of death that meant only one thing – vampires. Bounding through the trees he saw her fighting three old and experienced blood drinkers. Bellowing with rage he descended on the unsuspecting vamps, swiping his massive claws across one's retreating back, shredding through dead flesh and cloth like butter and watching it turn to ash in pleasure. A second ran at him sword raised and simultaneously using a drain life spell, but Farkas lunged and pinned the creature to the ground smacking it until it was just a ragged pulp. He leaped up to go after the last one, but saw Kjirsten yell angrily as her greatsword sent its head flying into the bushes. She turned her blade on him then, sucking in air to no doubt Shout him to pieces, but he moved away and began to transform.

When he stood up out of his crouch, naked as the day he was born, he stared at the stunned Dragonborn with a wicked smirk. "Hope I didn't scare ya."

"You…you…a werewolf! Gods, why didn't I see that before?" Farkas just continued to stand there, unashamed of his nudity or his secret being revealed, as Kjirsten processed the information. "Thanks for saving me…again," she laughed.

He flicked a hand dismissively. "No problem."

Her gaze finally drifted down and drank in the sight of him. He was truly gorgeous – dark hair covered his body, thicker on his chest and legs, but only serving to accentuate the bulky muscles on his large frame. His cock had already begun to stiffen under her hungry stare and she didn't think she would be able to deny him, nor did she really want to.

"Like what you see," Farkas asked with amusement. Striding purposefully towards him Kjirsten gave him a radiant smile.

"I've liked it since I nearly faceplanted at your feet in Whiterun square." They shared a soft laugh. He was trying hard to keep his hands at his side even though he really wanted to run them through her hair and down her body.

"Why did you run?" Even in the pale light of the moon Farkas could see the stain that darkened her cheeks.

Kjirsten shrugged. "I was scared. I was immediately attracted to you and that scared me." She gave him a searching look. "Don't tell me you weren't scared too." Farkas ducked his head in silent admission and she smiled slightly.

Reaching her hand to his scruffy face Kjirsten gently cupped his cheek, pleased when he sighed at the contact and leaned into her palm. Unable to resist any longer, he wrapped his strong arms around her smaller frame and pulled her against him, breathing in the scent of her hair and toying with the loose strands of her braid.

Kjirsten melted in his grasp. She'd been dreaming of his touch since that day in the market. She wasn't sure what drew her to him, especially since she didn't know him at all, but there was _something_ about Farkas that called to her. Even the knowledge that he was a werewolf excited her and he hadn't attacked her in his beast form – he'd defended her and then revealed his secret. That was a level of trust she'd never expected. Most people only respected her out of fear or because they wanted something from her, but Farkas wasn't like that.

He smelled woodsy, musky, and slightly spicy – it was a heady scent that caused her heart rate to speed up as it enveloped her. He was a man's man, a true Nord, and a werewolf. She'd never considered herself a long-term commitment woman, but she could easily commit to Farkas.

Farkas groaned as Kjirsten brushed her lips softly across the hard planes of his chest sending searing heat through his body that gathered in his loins. Gods, he wanted her! Growling in his throat he lifted her head to meet his lips as they crashed powerfully against her own. Kjirsten mewled in response and he resisted the urge to smirk when she opened her mouth for his tongue and wound her fingers in his dark hair. They took their time tasting each other, letting their tongues dance, while teeth gently nipped and lips caressed.

When she pulled back his steely eyes were storm clouds of desire and need. The evidence of his lust was incredibly hard and pressed obviously against her thigh. Kjirsten stepped back with a smile and began undoing the buckles of her traveling armor with quick, practiced moves.

The Companion could only stare in wonder as her creamy flesh was revealed bit by bit in the moonlight. Even though she spent much of her time outside her skin had managed to stay pale, but it wasn't unmarked. Scars from battles, some more faded than others, dotted her body and he remembered the smattering of small freckles across her nose. When she was finally nude he met her gaze hungrily and Kjirsten smiled widely to see the approval on his face.

He rushed her then, picking her up easily, causing her to gasp in surprise and wrap her legs around his torso. Farkas felt the heat from her core against his abdomen and his wolf began howling in his brain. Carrying her over to a mossy area away from the scene of their earlier skirmish, Farkas laid her down gently. Kjirsten was touched to see such a lumbering, rough-around-the-edges man could be so gentle.

Once she was underneath him, sprawled on the green grass like some kind of ancient wood nymph, with trust and want shining in those crystalline eyes, he paused uncertainly. "Kjirsten, I-I not good with words, but-"

"Shh, Farkas," his eyes widened slightly when her finger touched his lips. "I feel it, too. Don't speak – show me." He exhaled in relief, kissing the tip of her finger then following the trail down her arm to her lovely neck. Nibbling and suckling gently, Farkas found the sweet spot that left her whimpering, and with a smirk he moved to the other side and repeated the process.

Her dull nails scraped along his sides and down his back, grasping for purchase as her brain quickly descended into its own kind of animal-like lust. It had been so long since Kjirsten had a lover, but she'd never felt like this about any of the others, and it made every touch from the werewolf even more electric than normal. She felt his mouth move past her breasts, which he was busy kneading with his large hands appreciatively, leaving trails of kisses down her stomach. Whenever Farkas encountered a particularly jagged scar he would sigh softly and nuzzle it tenderly, almost in apology, before continuing his journey.

Her body was that of a warrior-goddess – soft, yet unyielding, beautiful, but scarred and Farkas was enjoying every second spent worshipping it. He respected her for every mark on her body and yet, he hated to see such beauty marred. Everything about her, about them, was a conundrum. The beautiful Dragonborn and the surly werewolf laid bare in sight of all the gods in the middle of a woodland glade to make love for the first time. It sounded like one of Vignar's stories.

Removing his hands from her breasts Farkas gently opened her legs wider and tenderly stroked her damp folds. She gasped and arched her back when he slipped one rough finger inside her opening. He hissed in need to feel how wet she already was for him and used a second finger to stretch her inner walls for this thick member. The wolf half of him was practically clawing to be released at the sight and smell of her; it took all of his willpower not to shift when Farkas ran his tongue around her outer lips, finally tasting the most private part of body.

Kjirsten nearly came right then. The action was so…intimate and when he'd run his tongue across her swollen flesh she saw stars, unconsciously digging her fingers into his back. Her response made him growl loudly and she opened her eyes to see that his own had morphed from grey to black, his muscles rippled across his back and arms as he struggled to rein in his wolf. He crawled up the length of her body panting raggedly as his dark eyes zeroed in on the junction of her neck and shoulder. She could see the flash of pointed canines in the moonlight and knew what his wolf wanted. Moving her unruly braid from her neck Kjirsten stretched out her neck for him to reach and saw the flash of Farkas' humanity return.

His eyes turned grey again and with a loud gasp he pulled her roughly against his chest, breathing hard and fast. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry…I almost…" Farkas swallowed thickly. "We shouldn't do this. I have no control around you."

"Hush, I offered myself to your wolf, Farkas. It's okay."

He pulled back and glared at her. "No, it's not, Kjirsten. You don't want this…curse. This urge to feed, to give into something inhuman, and be taken over by an animal. I don't do it very often anymore. Giving in gives the wolf more power and makes it harder to stop."

Kjirsten studied him. The earnestness in his soft voice broke her heart a little. She softly kissed the side of his mouth. "Okay, Farkas, I understand. That doesn't mean I want you to stop though." He regarded her warily, unable to articulate his fear of losing control and hurting her. "I trust you. I…love you."

Her words soothed him and he moaned in her mouth when she kissed him. He followed her back to the ground, still kissing her as he positioned himself between her long legs. She wrapped one around his waist in encouragement and watched eagerly when he sat up to line the head of his cock with her entrance, his other hand resting on her hip to keep her leg in place.

Before sliding into her beckoning womanhood Farkas paused and stared at the vision under him. "I love you, too, Kjirsten," he whispered and then slid home. He grit his teeth as he struggled for control; he'd never experienced such a perfect fit, not to mention the emotions behind it all, while his wolf was threatening to break through the surface again.

Kjirsten took advantage of his stillness to adjust to the sudden girth that filled her. He was well endowed and it had been so long…she blinked to clear the black spots that filled her vision caused from sensory overload. Her sight returned to see his steely gaze looking at her in concern, but she smiled tenderly and bucked her hips against him, pleased with herself when he hissed in response.

Lifting her other leg and hooking it over his hip Farkas rubbed inside her passage slowly, savoring the feel of her soft, heated flesh wrapped tightly around him. He watched her carefully to make sure that he didn't hurt her – he knew that he wasn't always aware of his own strength and he was still fighting his wolf for dominance.

She returned every languid stroke with an impatient one of her own. Kjirsten wanted him hard, rough, demanding, but he was taking his time with her and it was driving her crazy. His body was tight as a bowstring, the muscles of his arms rippling with the effort to maintain control. A crazy, wild idea struck her then.

"KAAN DREM OV!" Kjirsten held back much of her Shout strength, but retained the authoritativeness of the words. Almost immediately Farkas relaxed as Kyne's Peace soothed the beast inside of him. Stroking his scruffy face with her hand, she whispered, "Let go, Farkas."

Leaning over her to deepen the angle inside, the large man slammed roughly within her, sending shivers of delight through her body. He grunted in approval as she arched slightly, pressing her soft mounds against his chest and tugging his hair in pleasure. In and out, in and out, he propelled his hips forward sending his cock deep inside her heat until she was quivering on the ground.

"Farkas," she breathed. His name fell from her lips like a litany swelling his ego with manly pride. Her walls clamped down more tightly around him and he could feel the brush of her hardened nipples. Kjirsten captured his lips in a searing kiss and he swallowed her scream as she exploded. When she fell back to the ground with a content sigh, he chuckled and moved within her again as he neared his completion.

He adored every little raspy gasp from her as he continued to stroke her hypersensitive flesh. Straightening up he pulled her roughly against him, feeling his end approaching as it coiled deep in his gut while burning in his balls. Kjirsten reached down and twisted his flat nipples between her fingers, surprising him with how good that felt, and groaned as the coil snapped. Growling he dug his fingers in her succulent curves and hilted himself fully as he threw back his head and filled her with his seed.

Slowly he relaxed his grip and gently laid down bringing the blonde with him. They caught their breath in satisfied silence and listened to the sounds of the forest as life in the wilds went on around them. The moons rose higher in the dark night sky washing the couple in their combined glow. It felt like a sign from the gods to Kjirsten.

"Thank you, my Lady," she breathed reverently. Farkas looked at her expectantly and she sat up to see his face better. "The Shout I used on you to calm the wolf is called Kyne's Peace. It's fitting that the Lady of the Storm Voice would have a shout named after her that calms wild animals." Kjirsten ducked her head. "I wasn't very religious until the Dragonborn business happened. Now I go to Kynareth's temple at least twice a week, if I can, to honor her gift. And whenever I'm in Solitude I seek a blessing from Akatosh for my dragon blood."

Farkas nodded in understanding. "Do you know who grants the gift of lycanthropy?" Kjirsten furrowed her brows and shook her head. He exhaled sadly. "Hircine, Daedric Prince of the Hunt."

"Oh, Farkas!" Kjirsten took his hand sorrowfully.

"I didn't know when I took the beast blood. I was young and stupid. It was a gift, the others said. It would make me stronger, faster, more powerful – heady words for a young warrior itching to prove something to the world. But Kodlak, the Harbinger, thinks there is a way to cure ourselves if we want."

"Will you take it?" She sighed happily when he nodded.

"I don't want to be torn anymore. I just want to be Farkas." He turned his head away in embarrassment. "I don't want to hurt you."

She lay across his chest and listened to his heart beat – strong, steady, and sure, just like Farkas. "You won't," Kjirsten whispered.

The Companion didn't have it in him to argue with her, so he let it go, but he couldn't stop thinking of how his wolf almost overtook him and marked her. Maybe if he didn't have the doubts about his beast blood that he did, he wouldn't have minded marking her as his, in wolf fashion. But he couldn't do that to her when he didn't even want to be this…monster anymore.

Kjirsten sat up and unbound her messy braid; picking leaves out of it with a light chuckle. "Come on, we should get to Riften before daylight." Farkas sat up and indicated his lack of attire.

"Uh, how am I supposed to get into the city without clothes?"

Her icy eyes twinkled mischievously. "Leave it to me." Pulling him up with a laugh, she gathered her armor and pack, quickly refastening her leathers and leading him through the woods towards the city. When they reached the river on the edges of Riften, Kjirsten crouched and pointed in the gloom. "There! See that house – it's mine and it has a back staircase from the port to the living room. We'll swim across and enter there. No one will be the wiser and tomorrow I'll by you new clothes in the market." She smiled radiantly at him and he kissed her quickly.

"Smarter than my brother, you are." The Nords slipped as silently as they could in the water, treading slowly to keep sound to a minimum in the still night. The sun was tinting the sky a pale pink on the edge of the horizon as they scrambled up the back stairs. Farkas grabbed a dry piece of leather from the tanning rack and wrapped it quickly around his lower half while Kjirsten fumbled with the key in her slippery fingers.

"Finally!" With a happy squeak she grabbed his hand and yanked him into the house, locking the door behind her. Catching sight of her large Nord dripping water on her floorboards with only a scrap to cover his modesty, Kjirsten couldn't contain her laughter. He smirked good-naturedly realizing he must look ridiculous.

"My Thane, are you alright…oh, I'm sorry!" Farkas whirled around at the very female voice behind him and nearly dropped his leather covering in surprise.

"Sorry, I forgot to mention my huscarl. Iona, meet Farkas. Farkas, Iona. Umm, Iona could you draw a bath for us please? We just swam in the river and it was freezing."

Bowing to hide her embarrassment and deciding to ask no questions, Iona disappeared to do as she was bid. Farkas turned to face her again with an eyebrow cocked in amusement. "Just how many cities are you Thane of, anyway?"

Kjirsten blushed and refused to meet his gaze as she replied. "All of them." Farkas laughed uproariously, flinging water across the small living area, while Kjirsten giggled at the ridiculousness of their situation.


	4. Chapter 4

The market was in full swing by the time Kjirsten went shopping. She and Farkas had both cleaned up, separately for the sake of poor Iona, and then taken a long nap. It was probably two in the afternoon by now, but Kjirsten didn't regret a second of last night or their sneaky return to Riften. Bartering her goods with Bersei in the pawnshop, she found some heavy armor at a decent price and took the pieces to Balimund to have them adjusted to Farkas' measurements. He promised to have them completed by evening so she finished her bartering with the various merchants before heading to the Keep.

Collecting her reward for dealing with the bounty, Kjirsten next walked to the Temple of Mara to speak to Maramal. She didn't even bat an eye over the price of an Amulet of Mara and even donated a hefty sum to the Temple before accepting Mara's blessing. Slipping the amulet in her knapsack she headed home to spend more time with the burly man spending his day in her bed.

Passing the inn she heard a smooth lilt behind her. "Word on the street is that a very naked man snuck into your living room this morning. Climbed out of the river like a god."

Kjirsten whirled around and grabbed the red haired Nord, dragging him into an unoccupied recess, while he smirked wickedly. "Hush, you!"

Brynjolf rocked back on his heels. "I also have it on good authority that a certain lass purchased an Amulet of Mara. My, my, what's the world coming to when the Guild Master decides to marry a famous Companion, hmm?"

The blonde glared daggers at him. "Stuff it. He doesn't know and he doesn't need to know. Besides, you wouldn't have me, so I moved on."

The redhead had the sense to look abashed. "Ah, lass, it's not like that. I'm just not the commitment type. You're a lovely woman and a real firebrand between the sheets, but marriage is not for me." Kjirsten crossed her arms and stepped back to put distance between them.

"I've been speaking to Karliah and I've decided to pass the Guild Master torch to her. You said you don't want it and neither does she, but you two work better as a team. You've been doing this longer than me and I want to settle down."

Brynjolf reached for her then, but she held up her hand and he stopped with a heavy sigh. "Alright, lass. I can see that you've already made your decision. Good luck. We'll still be here if you need us – we'll always be grateful for what you've done."

Kjirsten nodded. "I'll leave the Guild Master armor in the cache behind my house. Send someone round for it after I leave town." She turned and walked away from her past lover and into the arms of the one the gods had gifted her. When she entered her house it was to see Farkas wrapped in a large fur blanket sharing battle stories with Iona at the kitchen table.

He smiled broadly when she walked in. "Kjirsten! Have a drink. We're just getting warmed up." Grabbing a seat and mead the trio shared their experiences and their hilarious failings on the field. They all looked surprised when a loud knock interrupted their tall tales. Iona stood to get it, but Kjirsten waved her down and answered it herself.

Balimund stood in the doorway with Farkas' new armor. Kjirsten ushered him inside and he laid the pieces out on the bed. "That's quality work, blacksmith." Balimund looked at the mountain of a man wrapped in furs studying his handiwork and smiled to himself in confirmation. He knew those measurements were too large for the Dragonborn.

Without even a hint of a blush, Kjirsten shook Balimund's hand and passed him a large coin purse. "But, we already agreed on a price…I can't take this." She closed his blackened fingers over the fabric.

"Yes, you can, Balimund. Thank you."

Turning to Farkas, he said, "If any of it needs further adjusting after you put it on, let me know. I'll handle it at no cost." Thanking Kjirsten again he took his leave so the younger man could try on the armor.

Iona excused herself to go downstairs so Farkas could get dressed without her ogling him. He dropped the blanket with relief. "It's hot," was his answer to her smirk as he stood naked in front of her again. She dug out the small clothes she'd purchased and passed them to him. Once those were on he began buckling on the individual pieces with ease. "I like it." Farkas smiled again when he was fully outfitted.

"Good, I was hoping you would." He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.

"I like it because you got it for me." Kjirsten hid her smile at his words, but he tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "Don't hide your pretty smile." Wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders she eagerly met his lips for another kiss. Both of them were becoming more aroused, so Kjirsten moved back reluctantly.

"We should get some sleep. We ride for Whiterun in the morning." Farkas nodded at her wise words, even though all he wanted to do was ravish her again and again instead. With Kjirsten's help they removed the armor he'd just put on and began blowing out the numerous candles upstairs before falling back in her large bed. Brushing her lips chastely across his nose Kjirsten curled contentedly into his chest, falling asleep almost immediately from the mead. He chuckled softly at the blonde, moving her long hair out of her face, before joining her in sleep.

The couple rose with the sun and quickly outfitted for the ride back to Whiterun. Kjirsten paid the stable master for caring for Farkas' horse and rented a second one for her. Farkas was a little sad that she chose not to ride with him, but realized it was better for the poor horse to not carry so much weight. Cantering out of Riften the duo rode all day, pausing only to water the horses briefly when they broke for cheese and bread, and continued riding easily through the warm evening.

Farkas sighed when they entered Whiterun Hold, knowing that he would have to go back to Jorrvaskr and explain his sudden disappearance, which meant he would have to leave Kjirsten. He would miss her companionship with her gentle voice and the easy way she drew him out during their trip, learning more about him than most of the Companions.

Kjirsten sensed his mood and wondered if she should say something. Nibbling her lip nervously, she straightened in the saddle and made her offer. "I know you have to return to Jorrvaskr, Farkas, but you're welcome to spend the night with me. The Companions will still be there in the morning."

The man looked at her quickly, shaking his head sadly. "I have to go back tonight. It's a matter of honor for leaving without explanation." Kjirsten looked away so he couldn't see her disappointment, but he sensed it in the slump of her shoulders. "Thank you for the offer," he whispered, pleased to see her lips lift in a small smile.

Riding the last few miles in silence they handed over their mounts at the stables and made their way up the hill to the gates. "Dragonborn, Companion," greeted the guard as they passed through. Whiterun was quiet since the shops had closed for the night with most townsfolk either having a pint in the Bannered Mare or dinner at home. Farkas walked her to her door with a mumbled goodnight then walked in the darkness to Jorrvaskr where his brother's wrath was sure to be found.

The blonde watched him walk away sadly and then slipped into her small abode. Lydia was stirring something delicious in the cooking pot, but put her hands on her hips when Kjirsten closed the door. "My Thane, would you like to tell me why Farkas of the Companions came asking for you and then chased you all the way to Riften?" Kjirsten covered her face with her hands with a groan and sank into a nearby chair to tell her huscarl the story.

Farkas reached the mead hall and pushed open the double doors to find all the Companions still up, drinking and sharing tales, as they were wont to do until the wee hours of the morning. Vilkas had been waiting in the shadows and growled from the murky corner, "Where have you been?" His twin strode threateningly towards him, but Farkas held his ground.

"I don't have to answer to anyone, Vilkas. I'm my own man."

Vilkas sneered angrily. "I am your brother! You can't just leave without a by-your-leave and expect me to not get pissed!" His sniffed the air in a manner most of the Companions would have described as haughty, but the wolf brothers both knew he was smelling him for any secrets and he found one. "YOU BEDDED HER, DIDN'T YOU?!"

Instantly the brothers seemed to grow in height as each attempted to tower over the other while their muffled oaths quickly turned into deep growls. Aela stepped between them and shoved them apart. "Underforge. Now." She hissed and jerked her head to the other Companions who were watching. Neither of the brothers wanted to be the first to break eye contact, but Aela's patience had snapped. "NOW!"

Farkas and Vilkas were too tied up in their squabble to notice the dejected looks among the other female Companions, but Aela did with a weary sigh. Just what she needed – a bunch of women who realized their mooning glances would never get them anywhere with one of the twins. By the time the Huntress reached the Underforge the brothers were already there, barely containing their wolves in their anger.

"Both of you calm down! You nearly gave us away back there and that is more important than Vilkas' wounded pride or Farkas' bruised ego!"

"He insulted her – "

"He left without – "

"SHUT UP!" The brothers crossed their arms simultaneously glaring mutinously at each other. If she hadn't been so furious, Aela probably would have laughed at their synchronization. With a heavy sigh she reined in her own wolf that was bubbling under the surface of her skin, rubbing her hand across her forehead. "I wish Skjor was here to talk sense into you two, but he's not, so it falls to me." The twins looked at the ground in shame. "I understand why you are both angry and you both have reason to be, but let me say this. Vilkas, your brother is not your shadow. He can come and go as he likes. He does not answer to you and he can fuck whoever he wants without your permission."

Before Farkas could crow his victory, Aela rounded on him. "And Farkas, while you do not answer to any man, including Vilkas, he is still your brother and your shared blood will cause him to worry more for your safety. Even without the beastblood that bond is strong." She straightened up and growled. "Now, I hope this clears things up because I do not plan to coddle you like milk drinkers and I will not tolerate such displays in public again!" Turning on her heel the brusque archer left the brothers alone to work out their differences.

The dark twins stood in silence for a few beats as they calmed down and let Aela's words settle around them until the quiet became suffocating. "Brother," Vilkas cleared his throat, "Aela speaks truth. I do worry for you and that is why I warned you about the Dragonborn-"

"Kjirsten," Farkas interrupted. Vilkas paused, but nodded slowly in acknowledgment.

"I warned you against Kjirsten because I thought you might be hurt. She's not some barmaid that you bed and forget."

Farkas grumbled. "I know why you did it, Vilkas. That doesn't mean that I will always listen to everything you say." He stood taller. "I may not have your smarts, but I can make my own decisions."

Vilkas sighed. "Yes, you can. I'm sorry for not seeing that sooner."

His twin coughed uncomfortably. "I-I'm sorry, too. For not at least telling you that I was leaving town," Farkas choked out with a pained expression. Vilkas' lips turned up at the corners to see his brother's discomfort.

"Accepted. Now, tell me – "

"Uh uh," said Farkas with arms crossed. Vilkas leaned back on his heels, studying his brother's expression until realization dawned.

"By Shor…you love her!" Farkas reddened slightly, but held his twin's gaze with fierce resolve. Vilkas laughed shakily. "Gods, Farkas, does this mean you'll settle down and marry her?"

"I was plannin' on it." Farkas grinned feraly at Vilkas' stunned expression. "She…calls to me, Brother. Even my wolf responds to her." He let those words hang between them for a moment. Vilkas exhaled raggedly at their implication in shock.

"I never thought either of us would live long enough to marry, Brother. But, if this is what you want…I will have your back just like every battle we've ever gone into." He held out his arm and after a brief pause, Farkas wrapped his hand around his brother's forearm while clapping him good-naturedly on the back with the other.

"Speaking of wolf, Farkas, what do you plan to do about that?" Farkas dropped his twin's arm and ran his hand through his hair.

"Uh, well, it's not a secret. She knows." Vilkas almost exploded but Farkas deflated him with one word. "Vampires. Three to one in the middle of the night. If I hadn't run off to Riften that day I wouldn't have been there to save her, Brother."

"Ah, well, I can understand that. But what about the cure?"

"Kjirsten and I agree that I should take it." Vilkas nodded, pleased that the Dragonborn agreed when it came to the matter of Farkas' soul.

"Good. I'll let you know when Kodlak knows something. So," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "will you be staying in Jorrvaskr tonight?"

Farkas grinned when it slowly dawned on him that his brother might be jealous of the time he spent with Kjirsten instead of him, but he would never say it and risk offending his twin. "Yes, I worked up a thirst in the Rift."

Vilkas smiled in relief. "Well, lets go get some drinks and you can tell me how you took out those bloodsuckers." Aela smirked behind her tankard when the twins barreled into the hall, clapping each other on the back and laughing, their quarrel forgotten as they drank and sang with the rest of the Companions.


	5. Chapter 5

For the next few weeks the sight of Kjirsten and Farkas spending time in the city or running jobs together became a common occurrence. Even the Companions were used to the blonde woman rushing into Jorrvaskr, cheeks pink with excitement when she yelled to Farkas, "Let's go! Rogue giant in Rorikstead!" Sometimes, the townsfolk would hear the distant roar of a dragon only to see both Nords exiting their respective abodes and muster by the gates together before chasing after the beast. The duo always returned, covered in grime, but laughing and stealing what they thought were sly glances.

There were also plenty of nights when Lydia would rent a room in the Bannered Mare because Farkas was 'visiting' the fair Dragonborn and the patrons would cheer and raise a mug in his honor. There were bets around town on when the two would get married and who would propose. Lydia just rolled her eyes and ignored the gossips that hounded her for information until they eventually gave up. She would go to her grave before admitting that she'd stumbled on the Amulet of Mara hidden in one of Kjirsten's wardrobes when she was cleaning the loft not long after Kjirsten shared the story of how she met Farkas.

The sun was just setting over Whiterun when screams and raucous shouts echoed through the streets. Kjirsten paused at her alchemy table until the screams became louder, signaling that it wasn't rowdy children playing next to the house. Yanking her greatsword out of its rack she burst out the door and immediately saw the smoke coming from Jorrvaskr. "Farkas!"

Barreling through the frantic citizens Kjirsten ran to the mead hall with her heart in her throat. She reached the steps to the building and saw a few Companions outside with bloodied blades standing vigilant. Torvar muttered, "The Silver Hand attacked us." Gasping at the implications Kjirsten ran inside and was met with the broken body of Kodlak Whitemane sprawled on the floor and the twins flanking him numbly.

Vilkas watched warily as the blonde knelt beside his brother. "Oh, Farkas, I'm so sorry." His sensitive hearing picked up her whispered words, but he was more surprised when Farkas leaned into her and she wrapped her arms around his frame like a mother comforting a child.

Vilkas growled. "We have to go after them, Brother." Farkas shook his head slightly in his woman's bosom.

"No. You go. I don't have it in me to fight right now."

His twin grabbed at Kjirsten then with a scowl. "Then you will come with me. You say you're sorry and you claim to be Dragonborn. Show me what you're made of while we avenge Kodlak."

There was no mistaking the challenge in his offer. _Prove that you're worthy of my brother_, he practically screamed. Everyone waited with baited breath to see what the woman would say. She stood, sword in one hand, the other in Vilkas' face to pull him up and said, "Lets avenge him then."

Vilkas smiled appreciatively. Farkas swallowed his protest, not wanting to shame her in front of the Companions with his irrational fears. He watched as she strode with determination out the door without a second glance and his stomach dropped. Aela materialized beside the lone twin with a small smile. "She has the second-best Shield Brother in Jorrvaskr to guard her." He nodded quickly and turned his face away so Aela wouldn't see the anxiety he couldn't dispel.

Once outside Kjirsten followed Vilkas' lead since he knew where the main Silver Hand camp was located. It quickly became apparent that they were headed for The Pale, but they didn't speak as they trekked through the wintery wilderness. She just continued to follow him, determined to prove that she was a true Nord worthy of his brother so she could finally ask him to marry her. The Amulet of Mara had been boring holes in her ever since she tucked it away, but she'd held off because she wanted Vilkas to approve of her. He was the only family Farkas had and she didn't want to drive a wedge between them, if she could help it.

It was past midnight when they arrived at the camp. The Silver Hand had chosen the location well. It was a well-defensible fort and it looked like most of it was actually built underground for better insulation against the bitter winds from the sea. Kjirsten signaled to her partner that she could see two sentries – one archer above and a swordsman on the ground. He nodded in agreement, having seen no others, and he pointed to the stairs leading to the upper level indicating that he would handle the archer. She waited until he snuck up the stairs behind the archer before stepping out and distracting the sentries. Vilkas ran the archer through with a fierce cry, while Kjirsten slammed her greatsword into the warrior that rushed her, nearly cleaving him in half.

Vilkas huffed at her swordsmanship before jumping off the landing and rolling into a snowdrift. He hopped up and met her at the door, both of them crouching to maintain the element of surprise. This was the main base – it was going to be crawling with reinforcements so the two intruding warriors needed to play it safe if they wanted to stay on the mortal side of Sovngarde.

Things were going smoothly until they reached the barracks in the middle of the fort where most of the Silver Hand were sleeping. Kjirsten saw the pressure plate too late and Vilkas slid across it, barely evading the huge metal grate that nearly impaled him. They froze in the hope that no one was near enough to hear it, but both of them gripping their weapons tightly should the worst occur. Sure enough, the doors around them burst open and they were suddenly overwhelmed with well-rested warriors. Finding herself backed in a corner Kjirsten yelled out, "Vilkas, take cover!"

He wanted to laugh at the woman's stupidity until he saw her take a deep breath and realized what she was going to do. Rolling out of the way of a hammer blow he dashed into the nearest room just in time. "YOL TOOR SHUL!" Flames as hot as the sun filled the small corridor, licking the fur trimming on his armor, as the Silver Hand screamed in agony, crying for mercy that Kjirsten gave them in the form of her blade. Once the hall was silent again Vilkas peeked his head carefully around the corner and saw Kjirsten – the Dragonborn, his brother's lover – calmly wiping down her blade on one of their shirts.

"Okay, I believe you now. You really are Dragonborn." She just smiled and cut the coin purses from the bodies.

"Yes, well, I'm sure it gave us away. So if you want to dispose of pretense we can just dash through this fort and run the bastards through."

He mirrored Farkas' smile. "Sounds good to me." They ran through the tunnels on slightly more friendly terms, hacking and slashing every Silver Hand they came across. They didn't offer mercy when some would yield – they cut them down in Kodlak's memory. The Harbinger of the Companions deserved better than the end he met, in his own hall, and this was how they exacted the bloodgeld from those who'd dishonored it. When they reached the final room where the chief had ensconced himself Kjirsten immediately disarmed him with a shout, leaving him at the mercy of Vilkas' massive axe.

With a roar the Companion rammed the Silver Hand leader, pushing him halfway across the room and slammed him against a stonewall. A sickening squelch accompanied his axe as he yanked it from the leader's body. The chief slid to the floor desperately trying to keep his intestines inside the cavernous gash of his ruined stomach. "For Kodlak," Vilkas spat as his axe sliced through the air and cleanly removed his enemy's head from his shoulders.

Vilkas wearily stepped back from the pool of blood and sat down against the opposite wall with his eyes closed. He heard Kjirsten settle on the stairs next to him, patiently waiting for him to regain his strength and composure. Clearing his throat in embarrassment, Vilkas avoided eye contact as he broke the silence. "I, uh, should apologize for the way I've treated you. I haven't handled this new arrangement well." Kjirsten tried to cover her snort with a polite cough, but he held up his hand. "No, you're right. I've been an ass to both of you about your relationship. I should be happy for Farkas, but instead I'm-"

"Jealous?" Kjirsten's word choice caught him off guard. Was he jealous? And if so, was he more jealous that she was taking Farkas away from him or that Farkas was the lucky bastard who got to call such a woman his? Was it both? He hung his head in shame when he admitted that it was. He was a fool for not seeing it earlier.

"Normally, I would argue with you, but I fear that you are right." Kjirsten reared her head back in surprise. She hadn't expected her teasing barb to be correct.

"I'm sorry…did you just say what I think you did?" Vilkas looked at her angrily, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue, until he saw the shell-shocked expression on her face. _Huh, so it was a lucky guess,_ he thought.

His lips lifted minutely at the corners. "Don't act so surprised, Kjirsten. You know you're beautiful. Any man would be lucky to call you his and it does irritate me that that man is my brother."

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Why? Because you are used to being the older, smarter twin that gets everything he wants? Do you know how many times I hear Farkas say that he's not as smart as you? He may not have all the book smarts, but he's far from stupid. But he just assumes that he is!" Vilkas winced. "I don't love your brother for his ability to recite four thousand years of Companion history. I love him because he's fiercely loyal and protective, yet still manages to be so gentle. I've watched him take down a dragon and console a crying child as we passed through a village on the same day."

Vilkas watched the fire build in her blue eyes as she defended his brother to him while managing to succinctly explain why she chose Farkas over any other man. He heard the passion in her voice and he felt the same twist of jealousy, but he stamped it out. Farkas deserved his own happiness away from the Companions, away from him, and it sounded like Kjirsten would be just the woman to give it to him.

Sighing heavily, he looked her directly in the eyes. "I am sorry, Kjirsten. Please accept my apology. I would like to move on and begin working on a better relationship as in-laws." Vilkas held out his hand for a handshake. The Dragonborn eyed him uncertainly, but he smiled gently. "For Farkas. His happiness is more important to me than my selfish wants." Her face softened then and she took his hand gingerly.

"For Farkas…brother." They shook heartily over the one thing they could agree on. Collecting any coin and useful items the two warriors left the scene of carnage, blinking as they stepped into the dawn's light reflecting off the snow. As they followed the road back to Whiterun, Vilkas broke the silence.

"I've always wanted to ask – what did you think when Farkas revealed his secret to you?"

"In Riften, you mean?" She laughed softly. "When he was in wolf form my adrenaline was pumping and there was a healthy dose of fear. I was grateful that he'd helped me kill the vampires, but I was afraid he was still going to eat me, until he shifted. When he stood up and faced me I wasn't afraid anymore. I can't explain it, but I knew immediately that I was safe."

Vilkas couldn't stop the words from tumbling from his mouth. "It probably didn't hurt that he was naked." Kjirsten faltered on the road, her cheeks on fire, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. He raked his hand through his hair roughly. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Kjirsten. I shouldn't…"

She waved him off and picked up her pace forcing him to lengthen his strides to keep up. She realized that he'd only been teasing her about werewolves' lack of clothing after shifting, but for some reason it unbalanced her to hear her lover's brother say such a thing. They traveled back to Whiterun in silence again, making better time on the return trip with the brutal pace that Kjirsten maintained. She was desperate to get back to her twin…not the one walking with her now that unsettled her. Kjirsten mentally sighed. _Just when I thought we could work out our differences, he made it awkward again._

The duo reached the city a little after ten in the morning. Once through the gates Kjirsten ran through the square and up the stairs to the Skyforge. She smiled warmly at Farkas, giving his hand a quick squeeze, before moving to the row of mourners behind the Circle. Vilkas caught up then and took his place so the words of passing could be spoken for Kodlak. Aela lit the pyre on top of the forge to release his soul to Sovngarde and Kjirsten smiled a little to know that he would be free to pass the whale bone bridge without fear of Alduin.

Farkas' arms enveloped her in a vice-like grip burying his dark head in her fair hair. "Thank you," he breathed into her ear and she knew intuitively that he was thanking her for securing Kodlak's spirit home. Farkas informed her only days ago that he, Vilkas, and Kodlak had freed themselves from Hircine's hold by burning the heads of the witches that cursed the Companions centuries ago. Aela was now the only werewolf among the Companions and she was planning on joining Skjor in Hircine's Hunting Grounds when she died and had no intention of relinquishing her power.

"Come home with me?" Farkas looked down at the beautiful woman pressed against him and couldn't refuse. He smiled warmly and she took his hand as they walked down the stairs and through town. They entered Breezehome to find Lydia laying out lunch with an extra plate already in place for Farkas.

Kjirsten sighed happily as she looked over at her lover dining with her. She was ready to make it _their_ house now; well all of her houses would become his, no matter which one they decided to live in full-time. Excusing herself briefly Kjirsten dashed upstairs and pulled the Amulet of Mara out of the wardrobe with shaky hands. Breathing deeply, she reminded herself that of all the men in the world, she was choosing to commit herself to Farkas. With a large smile she slipped the medallion around her neck and walked downstairs.

Lydia noticed the amulet and catching her Thane's eye she beat a hasty retreat on some fictitious errand. Kjirsten moved behind her lover, who hadn't yet noticed her reappearance, and rubbed his shoulders languidly. Farkas groaned in appreciation ghosting his large fingers across her smaller hands sweetly. Lolling his head back he opened his eyes sleepily and caught the glint of gold around her neck.

Farkas moved so quickly she didn't have time to react as he picked her up and spun her around. When her feet touched ground again she grinned at the completely stunned expression on his face as he stared at the amulet. "Like what you see?" He barked out a laugh as she repeated the question he posed to her months ago in Riften.

"I've liked it ever since you fell in my arms in the market." He couldn't remember exactly what she'd said that night in the forest, but he knew he was close when she blushed in response. "Gods, I love you." Kjirsten didn't even have time to reply as his lips captured hers and his tongue delved into her mouth. She could only moan and hold tightly to him to keep from falling over again.

"When do you want to make arrangements at the temple in Riften," she breathed when they separated.

He looked at her hungrily. "I would say today, but Vilkas might kill me if I run off to get married the same day we laid Kodlak to rest."

"Freydas is two days from now. We can head to Riften then and it will give us time to tell our friends who might want to come." Farkas nodded and picked her up, smirking at her small squeak of surprise, and then carried her upstairs locking the bedroom door behind them.

Lydia knew the drill and was nursing ale at the tavern trying to keep her smirking to a minimum. She didn't want to give the lovers away to all the gossipmongers. _Let them find out tomorrow._


	6. Chapter 6

Two months had passed since the Companions had spoken their wedding vows in Mara's Temple. Kjirsten remembered it fondly – so many of their friends had been there. Even Brynjolf and Karliah made an appearance sans guild armor, hanging in the shadows at the back and sneaking out before anyone noticed them, but it had pleased her nonetheless.

Shading her eyes against the bright afternoon sun Kjirsten passed around cool bottles of ale to all the men and women who volunteered their help in completing their new house. Situated on a hill on the border between Whiterun and the Pale, the two-story manor made a striking statement on the quiet plains. Sauntering to her husband in the shade of a large tree, Kjirsten handed him a drink before sitting beside him with a smile.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Farkas took her hand and nodded. They sat in the coolness, listening to their fellow Companions laughing together on their homestead, and Kjirsten finally felt like she'd come home. She unwrapped some bread and dried venison from her dress pocket and passed them to her husband. "Well, I should probably make arrangements with Lydia to help me furnish the new house as soon as possible."

Farkas took a quick pull of his drink before replying. "No need. Vilkas and I can build most of the furniture ourselves."

Kjirsten nodded thoughtfully. "Good, then we'll just worry about purchasing the detail pieces. Oh," she remarked casually, "don't forget to leave room upstairs for a children's room." The man beside her paused halfway through his responding nod and turned to look at his wife, eyebrows drawn in confusion as he processed her words.

"Do you mean…you're with child?" Kjirsten smiled brightly. "My child?! I'm gonna be a father!" She laughed uproariously at her husband's reaction, squealing in surprise when he suddenly lifted her up and swung her around in a small circle. Their friends turned to the couple curiously and Farkas yelled proudly over her head, "I'm gonna be a father!"

Cheers and congratulations enthusiastically met them and Farkas invited them all to the Bannered Mare to celebrate. Everyone gathered their scattered belongings and walked back to Whiterun happily. Farkas took his wife's hand tenderly gazing at the beautiful woman in awe. His Kjirsten, the Dragonborn, was actually carrying his child! There were no words to accurately express his feelings.

Kjirsten returned his gaze, her insides practically boiling at the adoring stare of her hulking husband. If someone had told her a year ago that she would be the Dragonborn of legend and married to one of the Companions with a child on the way she'd have laughed them out of Tamriel. A year ago she'd been destined for the chopping block for daring to return home to Skyrim in the middle of a civil war, only to be saved by Alduin, the World-Eater. Kjirsten smiled wickedly causing her husband to furrow his brows in confusion once more.

"What?"

The blonde flicked her other hand dismissively. "Oh, just thinking that if Alduin were still alive I would send him a thank you letter or a birth announcement!" Even though it wasn't very funny, it was hilarious to Kjirsten who couldn't contain her giggles. Farkas snorted good-naturedly at the mental image her words conjured in his mind, but he admitted that his wife spoke the truth. If it hadn't been for Alduin they would never have met, since she wouldn't have been made Thane of Whiterun. The very idea sent icy shivers through his body and he quickly embraced his wife.

Kjirsten practically purred when his strong arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her flush against him in the middle of the road. Propriety be damned. She heard his heart pounding faster than normal and wondered what had him so upset, but focused on soothing her gentle giant. Running her fingers languidly up and down his back until his heart calmed down and he lowered his head for a hard kiss.

Farkas drank in the pleasant surprise in her blue eyes when he pulled back. "Never thought I would say this, but thank the Nine for the World-Eater!" Understanding dawned on her face, her features softening in response to his heartfelt sincerity, and she cradled his stubbly jaw with her small hand.

"Yes, and thank Mara for you." Farkas smiled tenderly at her – the warm smile that relaxed his whole face, which he reserved for her alone. She tugged gently on his hand, "Come on, we should catch up with everyone else." Kjirsten squealed again when he reached under her bum and scooped her effortlessly into his arms, picking up the pace with his longer strides, and carried her all the way to the city gates. The blonde was thankful the city guards wore full-face helmets so she wasn't able to see their knowing smirks, but she still felt them when they addressed the couple at the gate.

By the time they reached the Bannered Mare the evening shenanigans were in full swing, but everyone paused when Farkas threw open the door with a massive smile and a blushing Dragonborn in tow. "I'm gonna be a father!" His announcement nearly brought down the house as the city celebrated with the newlyweds. Farkas tossed Hulda a heavy purse of coin telling her that drinks were on him that night, but she informed him the first round was on the Mare. Once the moons were high in the sky and most of Whiterun was completely inebriated, Farkas carried his now sleeping wife in his arms while Lydia rushed ahead to get the door to Breezehome. Nodding his thanks to their huscarl the Companion gingerly carted her up the ladder to their bedroom and laid her down. Easing himself beside her he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her golden hair.

He let go at last. Shoulders shaking with repressed emotion his silent tears rolled down his cheeks, some of them even falling onto Kjirsten's neck, as he cried tears of joy, hope, and happiness. Marriage didn't feel like he thought it would – for him it came as easily as breathing when he'd been so certain that part of him would probably feel confined. Of course, even expecting the confinement, not marrying Kjirsten had never been an option. But this – this freedom to be himself and be accepted, to have a partner through all of life's battles and not just a Shield-Sister…that meant more to him than he could ever hope to express. And now he found out he was going to be a father. A son or daughter, he didn't care, to call him Papa and teach how to fish and fight.

"Thank you," Farkas whispered roughly in her hair.

"You're welcome," Kjirsten rolled over then and cupped his face, "though I should be thanking you. I wouldn't be pregnant without your help." She kissed his lips one more time before snuggling happily into his chest mumbling goodnight and quickly descending into sleep again. Farkas brushed his lips across her forehead and relaxed his aching muscles so he could finally sleep and dream about what life had in store for the Companion and the Dragonborn.

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**A/N: Well, that's all folks! Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for the sugar coated ending, but for some reason with these two I couldn't help it! Leave reviews and be sure to check out my other works. See ya on the next one!**


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